It's What You Saw
by WriterWithAKay
Summary: Rachel creates a web show with Kurt, but what she gets out of it is a lot more than viewership and subscribers.
1. Still Thinking

It didn't take long for Rachel to find something new to busy herself with after New Directions lost at Sectionals. Quinn figured it shouldn't have been a surprise. Hazel orbs traced the short brunette's movements as the girl paced the floor of the choir room, whispering to herself. Rachel halted in her steps when the secondary diva entered the room.

"Kurt!" Rachel exclaimed while placing her hands on her hips. "You know we have to do a show tonight, yes?"

"I know, I know."

"Then why didn't you return any of my texts or calls? I had difficulty finding appropriate topics to discuss for tonight, and could have certainly used some of your input! Now we basically have no script or any other activity other than our duet, which, as entertaining as it is, won't be able to satisfy our viewers! Unless you wish to explore a range of repertoire in which case I have a few suggestions–"

"Rachel!" Kurt said exasperatedly, effectively shutting up the girl before anyone else felt the urge to. "Don't stress so much, sweetie. You have me as your partner, everything will be fine."

"But Kurt–!"

"Ah ah, no 'but's! I'll put something together before coming over tonight, okay? And don't worry about approving it because it's going to be fabulous." Quinn rolled her eyes before sweeping her gaze towards the room's entrance as the doors swung open, catching a typical yet still worrisome smirk on Santana's face and Brittany aloofly traveling behind the Latina.

"Can you two divas pipe down already?" Santana immediately chastised. "There's only so much I can take."

"But you just walked in," Rachel spoke up, and Quinn felt a pang of empathy for the girl. _She just doesn't know how or when to back down_. Santana sized the short brunette up without having to come too close to her. She buried her under a glare while sternly uttering "exactly my point."

Rachel looked like she was seriously thinking about retorting, so Quinn felt another wave of relief when Mr. Schuester finally walked in and clasped his hands together in one swift motion. Rachel returned to her seat in the front of the room, and Finn rushed in just before Mr. Schuester began talking and claimed the seat next to the brunette. Quinn watched as the boy lightly pecked Rachel's cheek in greeting. The blonde decidedly shift her gaze onto the choral director as the Latina and tall blonde sat on her right in the third row. "Q, why didn't you wait for us at your locker? Is there some new boy toy you've been keeping from me?" Quinn leveled her eyes at the girl. "I won't fuck him this time, promise."

"I just felt a little sick."

"Sick? I thought all that pregnant mumbo-jumbo was over? Is something else going on?" It was over, and Quinn certainly didn't need Santana to remind her of that fact. Seeing Rachel at school every day was a constant reminder of the potential future she'd given up – a life involving Beth, her daughter. Quinn only noticed recently the shift in her demeanor around Rachel. Sure, she wasn't trying to stop jocks from slushy-ing her, or keeping Santana on a leash around her, but she did find herself looking at Rachel through a lens of sympathy – almost out of recognition that her and Rachel were now tied in a very unique way.

During the pregnancy, the dynamics of her and Rachel's relationship (if you could call it that) definitely changed. Tensions were lessened to a point of nonexistence. Quinn had finally reached the unbearable bottom of the school popularity hierarchy, and low and behold, Rachel Berry was right there beside her. Quinn would be lying if she said she didn't appreciate the girl's concern for her health. She'd also be lying if she said giving Beth to Rachel's birth mother, Shelby, didn't make her feel like she severed the last chance Rachel had to rekindle a true mother-daughter relationship with the woman. Quinn felt indebted even though there was no reason to. Rachel didn't do anything extraordinary for her. She did everything anyone with a heart would do if they saw a struggling, nearly homeless pregnant teenager. It just so happened that most people Quinn surrounded herself with were heartless.

"Q? Q?!" Quinn broke free from her thoughts, her eyes snapping towards Santana and practically sneering _'what?!'_ "You never answered the question."

Quinn traced back in their conversation while eyeing the front of the room where Mr. Schuester began writing things on the board. "There's no answer beyond what I just told you. I really did just feel sick."

"Maybe she's having aftershocks!" Brittany whispered excitedly over Santana's shoulder. "You know, the thing that comes after the bigger shock. Quinn, your pregnancy was like the bigger shock–"

"Yeah, a _really_ big shock to me," Santana scoffed.

"I'm fine now, Brittany." Quinn waved her hand dismissively while purposely ignoring Santana. She just didn't feel like explaining why she needed go to the bathroom before glee and splash water onto her face. She didn't think she could explain why anyway without sounding crazy.

"…So here are the areas we need to focus on next year in order to bounce back come time for Sectionals, okay?" Mr. Schuester said as he finished scribbling the word 'precision' onto the board. "And I really hope you all find an activity to keep your voices in shape outside of this room. I usually wouldn't ask this of you, but I think it could really help our sound as a group. If you must, follow in Kurt and Rachel's footsteps and create a web show if you can't think of any other activity."

"Speaking of," Rachel hopped out of her seat as if she had a cue, "I just wanted to take this opportunity to extend an offer of partaking in the show with Kurt and me to the rest of the club members." Rachel looked down at Finn who was goofily grinning up at her from his seat. Quinn grimaced as she watched the exchange, suddenly feeling unsettled. "Finn here has already made two appearances, and his excellent performances have sparked our viewers' interest in the rest of the members."

"What's in it for us?" Mercedes spoke up from her seat next to Kurt in the second row. Quinn noticed that ever since Rachel and Finn began dating, there seemed to be a divide in the short brunette's group of 'friends.' But then again, even before the two dated, there always seemed to be some animosity. Although Quinn became very close to Mercedes during her stay at the girl's house for a few months, she still couldn't understand what Rachel had done to deserve such backlash. But then again, Quinn had played a lead role in getting the majority of the school to stay away from the brunette.

…And there went that feeling again. Quinn placed a hand on her stomach.

"…Internet fame?" Rachel's voice trailed off.

"How many subscribers do you have?" Puck asked to the rest of the Glee club's surprise.

"Right now we're at four-thousand, four-hundred twenty-eight!"

"Well let me know whenever it is you and your sidekick get a spot on Broadway, and I'll make an appearance," Santana said, to which Brittany added "me too!" Tina, Mike and Artie continued to talk about it quietly amongst themselves.

"I'll have you know that YouTube is a great platform that has drastically grown over the last few years. I'm certain that only good things could come from your participation," Rachel concluded. As the brunette repositioned herself in her seat next to Finn in the front row, Quinn seriously considered the possibility of joining and what it'd be like. A night of her, Berry and Hummel all cooped up together and singing show tunes? If she was serious about reclaiming her spot as HBIC, then Quinn wouldn't find herself in that position until Hell froze over. Maybe not even after that.

But still, Rachel put up with her morning sickness and pregnancy-induced irritation and not to mention all of her taunting (okay, harassment) for years up until now. The least she could do was go along with Berry's stupid little web show, right? Plus it wasn't like she had to go on it every week. Once was enough.

 _Anything is fine to get rid of this freaking guilt!_

* * *

Quinn checked the time at the bottom right of her laptop screen.

 **7:49 PM**

"Am I really about to do this?" Quinn muttered to herself. Hazel orbs reflected Rachel's MySpace page, tracing over the content at a deliberately slow pace. It had been about a month since Rachel posted a video of just herself singing. Quinn recalled watching many of Rachel's videos, re-watching them, even, during her pregnancy. She swore they always made Beth settle down, but maybe that was because Rachel's voice had the same effect on Quinn. Except for when Rachel was rambling. But Quinn couldn't deny that the girl was talented. It was the main reason Quinn found herself jealous of Rachel when she first met her. Rachel was talented and the girl _knew it_.

Quinn clicked on the message icon. She knew she was a coward for not going right up to Rachel and talking to her at the end of glee, but she knew she really had no excuse to communicate with the girl in school now that her pregnancy was over. The last time the two talked was on the bus ride back from Sectionals. All Quinn could muster up was a "we'll get 'em next year" before slumping into a seat, her own pride taking a blow at the lackluster results. But not winning made sense. There was a lot going on between some of the members, like among herself and Puck and Finn, for example, and then Rachel and Puck and Finn, and then Rachel and herself. Not to mention the brief rift between Santana and Quinn, or the growing rift that has now grown into a full-blown canyon separating Rachel from Mercedes, Tina and Artie (Rachel and Kurt seemed to have worked something out to keep his name from being added to that list).

Quinn began typing a message, but then quickly deleted it. She didn't want to come across as desperate, but she also didn't want to seem like she was trying to make fun of Rachel. The blonde, ex-cheerleader sighed heavily before raking her hand through her hair.

"Okay, Quinn, you got this." She looked at the flashing black line and decided to start over.

 **From Qu1nn: Hey Berry, I was just thinking about what you said today in glee, about you and Kurt's web show. You said it was tonight. When does it start? I'm thinking about checking it out.**

Quinn frowned at the last part. She didn't want to seem like she was already considering participating either. She deleted it.

 **From Qu1nn: Hey Berry, I was just thinking about what you said today in glee, about you and Kurt's web show. You said it was tonight. I just wanted to know when it started.**

"…That should be fine, right?" Before allowing herself a chance to just delete the message and log out, Quinn pressed the 'Enter' button on her keyboard.

About an hour later, Quinn heard her laptop sound, indicating a new message. She rested the book she'd been reading on her nightstand, climbed off her bed and made her way over to her desk.

 **From Rachel Barbara: Starting in 5!**

Quinn shook her head, lightly smiling at Rachel's account name. She already knew what it was, and she already knew about her obsession with Barbara Streisand, but it was still amusing nonetheless. Quinn checked the time again, noting that it was five minutes till nine. She began typing back.

 **From Qu1nn: Okay, what's your channel's name? And wow, 9pm is when the show starts? Are you sure you're not violating your bedtime?**

Quinn had already sent the message before realizing that her last comment could've been taken the wrong way – in the HBIC-Quinn way. Rachel responded before Quinn could continue pondering her screw up.

 **From Rachel Barbara: The channel name is 'DivaDuo' (please refrain from commenting on that), and I can assure you that I will have enough rest to retain my beauty :-)**

Quinn smirked at the response, glad that Rachel was humoring her instead of taking offense and replying in a way that'd only bathe her in more guilt.

 **From Qu1nn: I hope so. I'll be tuning in then.**

It was now only two minutes till 9, so Quinn logged out of the page and quickly made her way onto YouTube. Surprisingly, the channel had showed up as the first suggestion, and instead of only having four-thousand and something subscribers, it now had close to six-thousand. _Wow, in only a few hours it grew this much?!_

Quinn made a mental note to ask Rachel when she and Kurt started the channel, and how they were able to garner so much attention at such a rate.

… Not that she was thinking of joining or anything.

Quinn clicked the 'Upload' tab, and clicked on the most recently posted video. When the upload page refreshed to the video-viewing page, Quinn was met with a black screen. "Huh?" She was confused as to what went wrong until the video player refreshed and showed both Rachel and Kurt smiling and laughing.

"Welcome to tonight's live stream, everyone!"

Quinn watched the comment section buzz with greetings, requests for shout-outs and compliments directed at either Kurt or Rachel or both of them. It appeared as though they already had quite the following. She was impressed to say the least.

Quinn watched as the two tried to respond to the rapidly appearing comments. She clicked on the comment box, feeling encouraged to comment something herself after seeing everyone else's enthusiasm. She wanted to make sure Rachel knew she was watching.

"Ah, shit," the blonde hissed at the 'must log in or sign up to post comment' notification. She didn't have an account because she never cared enough to comment or subscribe to anyone on YouTube. She only ever went on the site to look at viral videos or when she opened links Santana sent her. Now she was annoyed that she didn't have one. She thought about signing up for an account, but she didn't want to miss part of the show, so she settled for watching other people comment.

After the comments began to settle down, Kurt and Rachel moved on to what Quinn assumed was on their script.

"We have a special arrangement to open tonight's show." Rachel smiled almost alluringly. Quinn wondered if the brunette was doing it on purpose. "We hope you enjoy."

Kurt snapped for four counts and then immediately after, Rachel burst into song.

 _I look and stare so deep in your eyes,_

 _I touch on you more and more every time_

Rachel was perfectly in character, putting on a show for the viewers. Quinn's eyes were practically glued to the screen.

Kurt began to hold out notes in harmony with Rachel as she continued on.

 _When you leave I'm begging you not to go,_

 _Call your name two or three times in a row,_

In spectacular, diva appropriate fashion, the two switched off and Kurt was definitely serving face.

 _Such a funny thing for me to try to explain,_

 _How I'm feeling and my pride is the one to blame._

 _'Cuz I know I don't understand,_

 _Just how your love can do what no one else can._

The comments were stalled, but Quinn could tell that the viewers were eating up the performance, as was she. They weren't typing because they were most likely too busy gaping at the screen. Quinn was especially sure that her mouth was hanging ajar when Rachel and Kurt started singing the chorus together.

 _Got me looking so crazy right now, your love's_

 _Got me looking so crazy right now_

 _Got me looking so crazy right now, your touch_

 _Got me looking so crazy right now_

 _Got me hoping you'll page me right now,_

 _Got me hoping you'll save me right now_

 _Looking so crazy in love's_

 _Got me looking, got me looking so crazy in love!_

They both held out the last 'love', exhibiting their vocal talents by riffing in harmony. When they ended, Quinn was sure the words shocked, surprised, or stunned were all understatements for how she felt. Quinn was confident that neither Kurt nor Rachel sang like that in glee. Ever. It was on another level, a level above what she already thought was untouchable.

The comment section was bustling again, obviously filled with requests for an encore. At that moment, Quinn knew Rachel was wrong during glee earlier that day. She was sure that Kurt and Rachel could just sing duets for the entirety of the rest of their channel's existence and the viewers would be more than satisfied. They'd have subscribers eating out of their hands.

The live stream ended at nine-thirty. At the end of the show, Quinn couldn't help but feel like it was cut too early, but then again, she could only imagine what it was like to script thirty minutes worth of material. She found herself smiling nonstop after the duet, and even when she closed her laptop, a smile was still planted on her face.

There was no denying it. Rachel and Kurt were on to something. And by the looks of it, they could achieve much more than just internet fame. Quinn repositioned herself on her bed and pulled out some homework, her mind struggling to focus on calculus instead of Rachel's voice and Kurt's (surprisingly) witty one-liner segment. After an hour of half-mindedly completing her homework (she knew she'd need to review her work before class tomorrow), Quinn began getting ready for bed.

After showering and changing into her pajamas, Quinn made her way back to her bathroom to brush her teeth. As she shifted the bristles around in her mouth, the blonde moved her empty hand to lift her shirt, examining the scars left behind after her pregnancy. She slowly stopped brushing, and eventually put the toothbrush down on the edge of the sink so she could lift her shirt with one hand and lightly trace the stretch marks with the other. She could feel her eyes beginning to water.

Everything she had worked so hard for since freshman year had all gone to waste. The status, the power. One bad decision had cost her all of it. And she wasn't even confident enough to analyze why she made said decision. It was just too much, and all at once, Quinn could feel the divide she held in place during the day (to separate Quinn from Lucy) breaking down. She wiped her tears as they trailed down her face, but they just kept coming. She needed them to stop, though. Fabrays didn't cry. They weren't allowed to.

Ringing broke the silence that encompassed her bedroom. Quinn frowned, unsure of why anyone would be calling her at this time of night. She exhaled, wiping her face fully with the bottom of her extra-large t-shirt, and managed to find her phone in the dimly lit room. She lifted a brow at the number on her phone's screen, but answered anyway.

"H-Hello?"

"Quinn?" _Rachel?_

"Who is this?" Quinn tried to muster up any remnants of her HBIC tone.

"I'd be tempted to ask the same based on the way you said 'hello'. Totally un-Quinn like. And this is Rachel."

Quinn was rendered silent for a moment, very confused as to why Rachel Berry would be calling her at almost eleven on a school night.

"Quinn, you there?"

"I'm here… why are you calling?"

"Nice to know that my call was welcome," Quinn didn't know what to say, but the long pause afterwards seemed to speak for her. "I'm kidding, Quinn." Rachel sighed before continuing, "If you're wondering, I got Kurt to sneak on Finn's phone to get your number for me. And no, I'm not mad or jealous that he has your number still. I understand that you're still on speaking terms. And even though we're dating now, that's completely fine. The past is the past and–"

"You're rambling, Berry."

"Right. I guess I was just really curious… about how the show went?" Rachel's tone hitched, making the statement into a question. "What did you think?" Quinn could picture Rachel biting her bottom lip, waiting for her answer. She smiled a little at the thought.

"It was great."

"Great?"

"Better than great. Amazing."

"I didn't mean that… I wasn't trying to be egoistic. Great was okay."

"But the truth is that it was better than great."

"Okay." The line went silent again, the tension even more noticeable this time.

"Quinn… are you okay?" Quinn had to pause for a moment; she could feel an oncoming sob. Why did Rachel always do this to her? Why did she always know exactly what to say? Why did Rachel always make her feel so guilty? Why did Rachel care about someone who showed over and over again how little she cared about her in return?

"I…I'm getting there."

"Okay…," Rachel could sense that Quinn didn't feel comfortable with her asking her any intrusive questions, so she settled with asking something else. "Well, will you think about joining the web show?"

"Yeah," Quinn nodded, "I'll think about it."

* * *

 **A/N: Please review and let me know what you think :)**

 **\- K**


	2. Conflicted

It was Friday morning finally, Quinn thought as she half-mindedly opened her locker to exchange books from her backpack. The hallways were a lot different since she was no longer parting crowds of students like the Red Sea. Knowing that she no longer wielded that power made everything kind of intimidating. But no one at the school had come for her yet in the same way that she used to target people. The blonde was determined to reclaim her spot before anyone decided to change that.

"Good morning, Quinn"

"Berry?" Quinn looked over her shoulder at the brunette, who was decidedly more chipper than normal. Which was concerning. "Uh, can I help you with something?"

"Actually, yes." Quinn lifted an eyebrow in response, to which Rachel answered, "I think you know what you can help me with."

Quinn tried very hard to internally qualm her need to comment on how provocative the shorter girl sounded, though she still couldn't contain the smirk that pulled her lips to one side of her face. "And that would be?"

"Oh, come on Quinn! You know I'm talking about the show. Why are you always so difficult? And I mean, not as difficult as before the preg–" Rachel's eyes widened as she caught her would-be mistake, "b-before we became friends–"

"Whoa whoa, hold on a second there," Quinn lifted a hand in front of Rachel's face. "First off, your rambling has got to stop. Second, I never said we were friends. I just… understand you a little better now."

"Oh?" Rachel shift her weight onto one side, "in what way?"

Quinn didn't know what to say that wouldn't hurt the girl's feelings. On second thought, she wasn't sure why she cared whether or not she hurt Rachel's feelings, seeing that she still didn't put a stop to it when other people did. _It's that damn guilt again…_

"Quinn?" Rachel dipped her head slightly, trying to look beyond those hazel eyes somehow.

"Nothing, never mind." The blonde turned back to her locker, distractedly trying to find her chemistry book as Rachel's gaze bore into her profile.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"That… _thing_ you always do! Just talk to me."

"No."

"Come on, Quinn!"

"I have nothing else to say."

"You do and you know it."

"No, I don't! And would you stop looking at me like that?!" Quinn snapped. Rachel stepped back slightly.

"I don't know what you mean–"

"Like I'm about snap under pressure or something! Just because I hit a low these past few months doesn't mean I need you tip-toeing around me like I'm some abandoned, abused pet sitting in Sarah McLachlan's lap while she sings 'In the Arms of an Angel'!"

"But Quinn, I never–"

"Just forget it!" As Quinn walked away, right after slamming her locker in such a fashion that made Rachel and everyone else in proximity jump, she couldn't help but feel as though her diva storm out wasn't exactly on par with the tiny brunette's.

* * *

Quinn dragged her way to her next class after spending a portion of her lunch period in Sue Sylvester's office. Twenty minutes of someone reminding you how fat and out of shape you are, though with more explicit word choices, would put anyone in a somber mood. But she knew if she ever wanted to be on the squad again, she'd have to endure. Not only was the cruel, blonde head coach bringing her down, but her earlier interaction with Rachel was still eating away at her conscience. Why did she allow herself to blow up like that? Not only at Rachel, but in front of everyone else? It was completely overdramatic. Maybe she spent more time with Rachel during those several months than she initially thought.

The ex-captain of the Cheerios was painfully aware of the awkwardness awaiting her in her next class since it was the only other time she shared a classroom with Rachel besides glee. As she walked in, her eyes immediately spotted the singer concentrating on her notebook despite the fact that class hadn't started. Quinn slowed her pace, eyeing her normal seat and then glancing over to the empty stool next to Rachel.

 _Come on Quinn, you're being ridiculous. Nothing about Berry is scary besides her freakishly huge ego._

Holding her head up, Quinn strode over to the desk Rachel was currently seated and placed her bag on the floor, perching herself atop the stool. She noticed in her peripheral that Rachel froze as she was turning a page, finally noticing Quinn's presence.

"Hi there," Quinn tried, folding her hands in her lap. To her annoyance, Rachel proceeded to turn the page in her book, her gaze fixated on the next page as if she were trying to devour the material with her eyes. But Quinn knew otherwise.

"Would you stop," Rachel cried in response to Quinn poking her side with her pencil.

"You're ignoring me."

Rachel sighed and closed her notes. "Well, since we aren't exactly friends like I thought we were, I am no longer certain whether speaking is a thing you and I are allowed to do."

"Just because we aren't friends doesn't mean we can't talk. See? We're talking right now."

"Cut it out, Quinn. You made yourself clear this morning – you don't want me around, and so I'm trying to hold my end of the stick here."

"You're twisting my words," Quinn began whispering as more and more McKinley students filled the room. "I just – I'm trying to be better, get over things. But you set me back every time I catch you staring at me like some pitiful teenager who had t-to give up… give up her–"

"I get it," Rachel could see how difficult it was for Quinn to convey what she meant, so she decided to cut her off for her sake. "It's just that I'm trying to be there for you and help you, but you keep pushing me away."

"That's the thing Berry, I don't want nor do I need your help," _lies, lies, lies_ "– I just, I feel like I can only get back on my feet if I lift myself up."

"Well, that's where you're wrong."

" _Excuse_ me?"

"Does getting back on your feet mean returning to the power-craving, narcissistic bitch you were before?" Rachel quipped, too angry to explain her previous comment, "am I going to start getting slushied everyday again? Will you do it or will one of your brain-dead henchmen answer your beck and call?" Quinn, mouth agape at this point, could only stare at Rachel in response with a mix of emotions – anger, pity, hurt, frustration, and an immense guilt unlike anything she'd been feeling up until that moment.

"Because I'd hate for that to be the case."

"Rachel, I–"

"Ummm, th-this is my seat–"

"Don't you see me talking right now?!" Quinn snapped her head towards Rachel's usual seatmate for their lab. "Go find another seat." Rachel watched her usual partner stalk off rather confused, and released a sigh.

"Quinn, I don't want to talk to you right now." After a few moments, Quinn turned forward in her chair, placing her elbows on the desk and resting her chin on her folded hands.

"Fine." Quinn was only trying to fix things. Fix back to what, she wasn't sure – she only wanted Rachel to understand and accept where she was coming from. But if this was the way the brunette wanted things, she wasn't going to deny her.

* * *

Lima, Ohio had its ups and downs, but jogging trails were definitely a huge plus in Quinn's book. She stopped for a moment to retie her shoelaces before standing, placing her hands on her hips and overlooking the town from the incline she was on. This was the place she called home for nearly seventeen years, yet she wanted nothing more than to get out of there. She wouldn't allow herself to fall behind and become one of the countless Lima-losers in town. Perhaps that's why Rachel Berry always seemed to be at the forefront of her attention. The girl was not only – wait, Quinn needed to take a moment to admit it – attractive, which seemed to be the only selling factor among the line of Fabray women so far, she was talented and ambitious and unlike anyone else in the halls of McKinley. This whole time, Quinn saw Rachel as a threat. There were only so many slots available to get the hell out of Lima – Quinn felt like she was battling to claim her place whereas Rachel's place on the list was a given. So, Quinn tried to tear her down, over and over again. But, adding to the girl's seemingly endless list of superior qualities, the brunette was always resilient. No matter how many times she was knocked down – verbally, physically, spiritually – Rachel Berry was always the last one standing. Quinn both admired and hated her for it. She found herself questioning why she couldn't be more like Rachel Berry, someone who was so confident that she didn't need superficial appreciation based on meaningless popularity, or a fake image weaved from insecurity and expectation. She only needed her powerful voice to move an audience to tears, and her strong personality to prove how much she really cared about something or someone. Yeah, Quinn was confident that she hated the girl.

The blonde tried to ignore it, but she actually missed Rachel. Her compassion, her sensitivity. It had been about five weeks since they last spoke in class. Rachel made it quite apparent that she had no plans to approach Quinn ever again, nor did she need to. It finally dawned on Quinn that distancing herself from Rachel was only hurting one of them. And it wasn't Rachel. There were still moments where the two would make awkward eye contact during their lab (in which Quinn was back to her normal seat) or in glee. But other than that, it seemed as though every moment they shared during Quinn's pregnancy was a distant dream. A false reality. Rachel kept her eyes stubbornly forward as she walked the halls, always missing Quinn's lingering looks when the blonde caught her walking by.

When not thinking about how screwed up things were with Rachel, Quinn was devoting her time and energy to getting back in shape. Looking at her phone, she noted that she had jogged four miles so far that morning, but she had to keep going. She was determined to reclaim her captain spot from Santana, who, lately, has been a little more distant. If she had to guess why, Quinn figured that the Latina started to realize the very strong possibility that Quinn could actually do it. Which shouldn't come as much of a surprise – Coach Sylvester pegged Quinn as her favorite for a reason. Whatever she wanted out of her girls, Quinn made sure she got it, and some. Her pregnancy weight was gone and her abs were defined again, but Quinn wanted to return in better shape than she ever was before. She wanted to win a national tournament. She had to if she wanted to get out of this hellhole where even her parents were willing to kick her to the curb.

Quinn Fabray was not going to be a mere trophy wife, and _definitely_ not a Lima loser.

So she spent the rest of the day finishing her work out and doing homework. It wasn't until sundown that she realized she cooped herself up in her room for over five hours. She was just finishing up a paper that was due next week when she heard her mother call for her.

"Quinnie! Come downstairs for dinner!" The blonde groaned when she arose from her chair, stretching in an almost cat-like manner. She cautiously made her way downstairs, still feeling unsettled since she returned home. Things had obviously become tenser after she got kicked out. Her sister, Franny, relayed to her over the phone that her mom was seriously considering divorce. Quinn didn't speak to her mom about it herself, but she could tell that her father had no clue. Knowing her father's anger issues and obsession with the image of their family, she could only shiver when thinking about what would happen if her mom actually went through with it.

"Would you like a roll, sweetie?" Quinn cringed at the term of endearment. Her mom was still trying too hard for comfort, as if acting overtly-motherly would erase the months of fear and helplessness Quinn felt when she was pregnant and alone. The ex-Cheerio knew it was her father who wanted her out, but her mom could have at least stood her ground and refused to go along with it.

"No, I'm fine. Trying to cut down on the bread."

"Oh, that's right! You're exercising again. How's that going?"

"Fine."

"That's good." The silence returned, and remained for the rest of dinner. Quinn really had nothing to say to her parents, at least nothing that wouldn't get her kicked out the house again. Her father didn't speak at all. Her mom seemed hesitant. It was overall an unhealthy atmosphere. Quinn wouldn't even dare to look at her father. Instead, she eyed the greens and spaghetti on her plate and settled for listening to the clinking of silverware and chewing.

* * *

Quinn was back in her room, lying in bed with her back pressed against the headboard. In her lap was a new book she picked up from the bookstore on her way home from glee that afternoon. Even though it was sci-fi, her favorite genre, she found her mind trailing away from its pages and towards images of glee club.

When she walked in the choir room earlier that day, Quinn was immediately met with the sickly sight of Rachel perched in Finn's lap, the brunette's arm around his shoulder and his arms firmly wrapped around her waist. The two were laughing at something, the blonde had no clue what, then again, she didn't care, but she felt her entire body heat up. The sensation surged from every limb, climbing all the way to her cheeks and forehead. Maybe it was a sign from her subconscious that she wasn't completely over what happened with Finn. Maybe it was just a physical representation of her disbelief that the boy – and Rachel – could so… so _blatantly_ disrespect her by hooking up behind her back. Sure, peg her a hypocrite, but to the blonde, her one night of infidelity was just not the same as what the diva and the goof managed to forge. Quinn and Puck were drunk, and neither of them had done anything with each other up until that moment of weakness. Finn and Rachel, on the other hand, had been establishing a connection while the quarterback was still with Quinn. The fact that anyone would ever cheat on her, on _Quinn Fabray_ , was still inconceivable to the blonde and perhaps the rest of the student population. Especially when considering that the lead male singer was cheating on her with _Rachel Berry_.

Rachel Berry… Rachel.

How come being with Rachel, one-on-one, never rendered this kind of rage? When she spoke with the short girl, all she could feel was this… _intense_ need to do something to repay her. Chalk it up to Fabray pride, she guessed – she just didn't feel comfortable being indebted to Rachel. After thinking about how much the brunette helped her, she then mulled over the years of mistreatment she dealt to the girl. Which only makes it feel like there's nothing she could do to ever compensate for just how… how overwhelmingly kind and selfless the girl was.

But… but shouldn't she be upset? Shouldn't she think of Rachel's help as due payment for stealing her boyfriend? Quinn slammed her book shut and removed her reading glasses before running her hands down her face. It was so confusing… everything was. But for some reason, she just couldn't stop thinking about it. She couldn't stop thinking about Rachel.

 _Dammit!_

Quinn had been fighting the urge for the past couple of weeks, but tonight seemed to be the breaking point of all her restraint and composure. She went to her desk and opened her laptop. After a few moments of starting up, Quinn opened her Google app and quickly typed in 'YouTube.' After the very first (and only) live stream she walked of DivaDuo, she made herself an account so she could subscribe and comment on future videos. At the very top of the YouTube home page, she could see the videos she so stubbornly had tried to ignore. Staring back at her from the page were ten new videos from DivaDuo, each of them with about thirty-thousand views (the oldest one with around fifty-thousand). Quinn could feel a pang of emotion as she gazed at Rachel's smiling face in the screenshots for each video. How many times had she managed to wipe clean that smile from her face? How many times had her taunting brought tears to her eyes?

Quinn spent the next few hours catching up on all the content she missed over the last few weeks. Unsurprisingly, the singing was brilliant. There was even part of a video where Rachel rapped a verse from a Kanye West song per request from a commenter. Kurt was great too, and she could tell which parts of each video were probably his idea. Making a game using quotes from Breakfast at Tiffany's definitely had Kurt written all over it, but she was sure Rachel had no qualms with obliging. One of the videos had Finn make a brief appearance, but Quinn managed, begrudgingly, to make it through the whole thing.

It was past 1 AM by the time she finished. The blonde knew when she got up for school she would regret it ( _under eye circles, here we come…_ ) but watching those videos seemed like exactly what she needed. She was going to talk to Rachel at school. For the sake of her sanity, she had to.

* * *

 **A/N: This one was a tad shorter, but it felt appropriate to stop where it ended. Please please please, review. Feedback would help me improve and also cater to what you guys may want to read. Plus, it'd be nice to know if you guys are enjoying the story so far.**

 **And also, Happy New Year!**

 **\- K**


	3. Must Be the Outfit

This was only their second date even though they had been dating for nearly two months. Rachel forced yet another smile onto her face as Finn pulled up to Breadstix again, the same place he took her for their first date.

"I know you told me last time this place didn't have that many vegan options," Finn looked at her with puppy dog eyes, "but I didn't have time to look around for any other places. So I hope this is okay."

"It's perfectly fine, Finn, thank you for taking me out tonight." Rachel couldn't help but think of the numerous times she skyped Kurt only to see Finn in the background playing Call of Duty. But sure, he didn't have enough time.

"Yeah, no big deal. Now let's eat!" Finn practically jumped out of his seat and jogged up to the front door, leaving Rachel to clamber out of the passenger's side on her own. She tried to shove down the disappointment and sickening realization that dating Finn wasn't… it wasn't–

"Come on, Rach! I just got us a table!" Finn was embarrassingly loud, so Rachel just shoved her thoughts aside and plastered a smile on her face, trying to ignore the stares of other couples and families who were also walking up to the entrance of the restaurant. She had to remind Finn when she got to the main entrance to lock the car.

They spent dinner similarly to how they spent most of their time together: Finn gushing about himself and Rachel pretending that she didn't mind how one sided the conversation was. She thought by now that Finn would realize she hadn't rambled once while they were together, which should practically be every alarm system on the planet sounding at once. Maybe he thought it was a good thing though. Rachel had no clue. On this particular night, Finn discussed how he was hoping to get offers from Ohio State University or maybe Oregon or Alabama. Rachel just didn't have it in her heart to tell him that he'd have to be living in a parallel universe where McKinley's football program was actually good (or at least decent) to have a shot at prestigious football universities like those. Instead, she nodded along, prodding her fork around her plate of salad which, yet again, and despite her telling the waitress numerous times (seven, to be exact), had shredded cheese all over it. She planned to just box it and give it to her Dad. She'd have to make her own dinner.

When Finn dropped her off at home, he gave her a goodnight kiss that Rachel would've rather passed. It was sloppy and too aggressive. But she allowed him to slip his tongue in her mouth for maybe three seconds before she couldn't take anymore, and removed his face from hers with a hand on either side of his head. He repositioned himself in his seat and Rachel fought the urge to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Th-Thanks for tonight." She tried to sound appreciative, but she really just wanted the date to be over.

"You're welcome, Rachel. I had a great time."

"Me too…" An awkward silence fell between them as Rachel mustered over that bold face lie she managed to voice. Out of nowhere, the quarterback leaned over the middle console yet again, reaching for Rachel's neck as he swooped in for another kiss. After a split second of shock, Rachel pushed her open palm on Finn's chest, forcing him back into his seat.

"Goodnight, Finn." Rachel said as she hastily collected her purse from the passenger side floor mat. She didn't have to watch his car (besides, she could hear it) to know that Finn ripped out of her neighborhood, most likely upset. Oddly enough, Rachel didn't mind. At least Finn seemed to acknowledge her when he was mad at her.

* * *

"Kurt?" It was Sunday night, which meant that it was the last part of the weekend they had to go over their script for their weekly Monday live stream. Rachel was fumbling through her closet, looking for something clean and argyle. It seemed like her Saturday night date with Finn had thrown off her entire schedule. "Kurt!"

"Shhhhh!"

Before he knew it, the high-pitched boy was laying under a pile of sweaters with stitched animals on them. "Hey, what was that for?!" Kurt cried as he removed a rather furry sleeve from the top of his head, not at all expecting Rachel's clothes bomb assault. "Those better have been clean! I have very sensitive skin."

"Please tell me you're not still watching that guy's videos."

"Uh, first of all, he's not just some _guy_. His name is Blaine, and he just so happens to be devastatingly handsome, can sing, and only lives about three hours away from Lima. Oh, and did I mention he has over a hundred-thousand subscribers?"

"And did I forget to mention that it's already eight-thirty before a school night and we still don't have the last part of our show written?"

"Rachel, do you not get what I'm trying to say here?" Rachel crossed her arms, blowing her bangs up in a bout of frustration.

"No."

"What I'm getting at is that this is a huge chance for us to do a collaboration!"

"We can get glee club members to collaborate with us," Rachel said as she went to remove the remains of her clothes bomb from her bed, folding them neatly and putting them back in her closet.

"Yeah, 'cause that worked out so well with Quinn, huh." _Ouch._

"I told you, she changed her mind last minute. Plus… we still have Finn."

"Rachel," Kurt switched from laying on his stomach to sitting cross-legged atop Rachel's bed. "I think there's something you've been avoiding telling me." Rachel finally halted in her hunt for an outfit. It wasn't in her to act like Kurt wasn't right – she had been dying to vent to the boy all night, but all she could think about when the beginning of a rant was just behind her teeth was how just last year her friendship with Kurt was hanging by a thread because of Finn.

"Rachel, you know I'm over him, right? Like, super, _super_ over. Also, our parents finally got together, so it'd be a bit of a problem to still have a crush on him anyway."

"Oh, don't act like you don't sometimes check him out."

"Okaaay," Kurt drawled, a slight red tint appearing on his cheeks, "but I swear that's only to compare my old standards to my new ones. Like my future boyfriend Blaine." Rachel rolled her eyes and laughed a little, but she still didn't feel comfortable saying what was on her mind. Admitting that Finn wasn't all she hoped to be would make her seem like a fool, wouldn't it? It'd make every snide comment shot her way by Mercedes or Santana or everyone else at McKinley who had something to say when she and the quarterback got together valid, wouldn't it?

"Say what's on your mind, girl! I'm all ears."

"But Kurt, I feel like you wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"W-Well… I just feel like Finn and I are approaching our first bump in the road, and it's earlier on in our relationship than I anticipated."

"Bump in the road? Yeah, that sounds like a bit of an understatement considering how Finn almost drove through our garage door when he got home last night. What happened?"

"I don't really know..." Kurt lowered his eyes, "okay, I kind of know. I just, Finn tried to kiss me and I was so tired and exhausted from this week so I pushed him away and he got mad. I guess I was just not in the mood the whole time and he couldn't tell."

"Well, the both of us knew before either of us liked him that Finn was never the brightest in the bunch. Why didn't you tell him you weren't in the mood to go out?"

"I tried!"

"But?"

"But… I don't know."

"To me it seems like… maybe you're making things out to be more problematic than they are? I mean, Finn is pretty simple-minded. I'm sure if you made him aware of how you feel more often he'd start to respond."

"I–… maybe you're right."

"Hold the phone – did Rachel Berry just take my advice without any sort of retort or diva-inspired breakout into song?"

"I guess she did."

"Either I just made a whole lot of sense, or you're still keeping things from me that may potentially make you seem like a shallow person."

"Since I'm not obligated to, I'm not going to admit to either of those observations. But what I will do is snatch that laptop away until you start brainstorming with me so I can finally get some rest and stop stressing before my hair falls out and I'm unfortunately subjected to new forms of bullying at McKinley!"

"Okay, we'll get to that after I help you with that outfit," Kurt pointed to the skirt and socks Rachel began smoothing out at the edge of her bed. "Argyle socks with an argyle mini skirt? That's a no."

"Well all I have to choose from are those lovely sweaters I threw at you, my argyle skirt and socks you just wrongfully insulted, and this navy cardigan and white blouse." Rachel held the latter two garments up to her chest.

"Why don't you just wash your clothes now?"

"Because," Rachel looked at him with incredulously wide eyes, "It's nine PM on Sunday and washing clothes would consume at least two and a half hours of time that could be used for sleep! Don't you think I'd have already washed them if it wasn't a big deal?"

"Okay, well I know you've got to have more stuff in that Narnia-esque closet than that! What about that outfit I gave you for Christmas?"

"You mean the one that blatantly breaks about three different wardrobe rules in our code of conduct?"

"It does? Go me."

"Kurt!"

"Look, if you bring it out, I can make some alterations. Do you still have that granny-inspired knitting kit under your bed?"

"M-Maybe."

"Okay, then get that and the outfit out so I can get to work!"

"But the script–!"

"After, I promise Rachel. Let's get this outfit done so I know I won't go blind from an argyle attack tomorrow."

* * *

Being the center of attention is what Rachel lived for when she was on stage. Not so much when she was walking down the halls of McKinley High to her locker.

 _Freaking Kurt._

Rachel tugged at the flaring material of the black peplum top Kurt bought her that managed to hug all of her curves in just the right places. The male diva added a slim belt at the waist, convincing Rachel that she needed something extra to make it "pop." She donned a black and white houndstooth miniskirt with long, black socks that reached above her knee, finishing off the look with suede red heels. It was too much, especially for a regular Monday morning with about two months of school left. She was just grateful that it wasn't too chilly out when she walked outside to her car that morning. She did, however, make the excuse to her Dad that she was feeling rather anemic lately and should probably schedule a doctor's appointment as she clung her beige trench coat shut to conceal her outfit. If only Leroy could see her now.

"Well, well, would you look at this. Did Finn finally pop the Berry this weekend or what?" The brunette didn't even have to turn around to know who her first assailant of the day was.

"Don't you think it's a little too early for this, Santana?" After all, Rachel did just make it to her locker. She wondered why the Cheerio would even pay her any attention at this time of morning.

"Nothing's earlier than Cheerio practice," Brittany added in, always right beside the Latina, "you look _super_ hot today, by the way! Maybe you can play a game later with me and San?"

"A game?"

"Sorry, midget, Brittany just got a little mixed up. The outfit is a nice little gimmick, but we don't mingle with trannies. Come on Brit."

"Oh, that's too bad," Brittany pouted, but then seemed to instantaneously cheer up after the Latina made a comment in her ear. "Lead the way!"

Rachel didn't spare a look in their direction as they stalked away from her locker. She could care less what those two were up to anyhow, she could barely concentrate on putting her notebooks in her locker since as more and more students entered, the more intensely she was stared at. Perhaps she was too overwhelmed to even notice another blonde slip into her peripheral.

"Morning, Berry. Look, I just–" as soon as she heard her voice, Rachel's head snapped towards the ex-Cheerio, catching the blonde in the middle of raking her eyes down Rachel's body. When their eyes finally met, Rachel watched quizzically as Quinn quickly looked away, only to clear her throat and reassume her initial position and stare directly into Rachel's eyes. It was unusually unnerving to say the least. Not just because it felt like Quinn was trying to maintain eye contact to save her life, but mostly because it was the first time they had held each other's eyes for more than a fleeting moment in over a month.

"Quinn?" It felt like an eternity had passed before Rachel managed to utter her name.

"H-Hey, um, I just needed to uh, talk? Yeah. With you. Now."

"Oookay," Rachel chuckled awkwardly, "about?"

"Ah…" While she was certain she outwardly appeared acutely perplexed, internally, Rachel was feeling giddier than a kid locked in a candy store. If only Quinn could see herself, she thought.

"Uh, hello? Quinn? You with me?"

"With you? What do you – oh, uh, yes! I'm with you! I mean, I'm here, all good." Rachel smirked.

"Okay, if you say so."

"Well, I'm saying so."

"You are."

"Jesus Christ," Quinn muttered as she placed a hand over her eyes. "Listen," the blonde steeled herself somewhat, "can you come with me for a second?"

"Why?" Rachel watched as Quinn, obviously frustrated, mumbled to herself, something along the lines of 'always asking questions' and 'can't go with the flow.'

" _Because_. I asked you to," Quinn said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Last time I checked, your words weren't law of the land. You know what, I liked it when we weren't talking. I finally realized how much energy I was expending trying to be your friend or even just cordial with you. Maybe we should stick to not conversing. Oh, and I'll save you some of your pride and pretend like these past two or so minutes didn't just happen–"

"Please, Rachel." The shorter girl narrowed her eyes at the ex-celibacy club president. What did Quinn want from her that she couldn't get on her own? There must be something – that's the only reason she'd go out of her way to talk to her like this, right? Or was this part of some elaborate prank to help her regain her high status among McKinley's other regal douchebags and self-acclaimed Lima celebrities?

"'Please' what, Quinn? As far as I'm concerned, as of last month, I have nothing to offer you."

"I'm the one who's trying to offer _you_ something." Rachel quirked an eyebrow.

"Care to explain?"

"I'll start explaining after we can get a bit of privacy. I'm not feeling up to trying to have a serious conversation with you while horny little bottom feeders gawk at you from every corner of the hall." Quinn broke eye contact for just a second. It didn't go unnoticed. "Why are you wearing that, anyway?"

"You don't like it?"

"What? No, I just – you know what, I don't even care." Quinn walked away, not having to say anything to indicate for Rachel to follow her. The brunette could barely contain her smile as she trailed behind the blonde. _Score one for Kurt_.

* * *

"You're lying."

"Do you honestly think I would go through the trouble of being caught at your locker, then drag you into an empty classroom with me when I'm pretty sure that creep Jacob has already caught wind of what you're wearing and is on the hunt for you right now just so I can lie to you? In _private_?"

"Touché."

"Damn right."

"Then why? I thought you didn't want anything to do with me, let alone the show." Rachel was honestly caught so off guard. She was pondering whether putting on this outfit sent her into another universe where Quinn Fabray was actually interested in helping her.

"People change."

"Okay, now that was a bit too melodramatic even for me. Especially considering it's only been like a month."

"I meant even before that, though."

"Wow, well now I'm _certain_ I must be trapped in a parallel universe, because you're not making any sense at all."

"Look, I was thinking a lot these past few weeks, about myself, mostly about who I was in the past and how I want to be in the future–"

"Yeah, we all get it. 'Quinn Fabray, the narcissist'. I know."

"Could you make this any more difficult, Berry?"

"Seeing as there are so many things you happen to dislike about me, I suppose I could."

"Really? Do you really need to do this right now? You asked for an explanation and I'm trying here." Quinn was right, and it took all Rachel had then and there to swallow what could have been a mini blow-up followed by a diva storm out.

"Okay," Quinn began again, shifting her weight back and forth from her left to right leg. She looked so unlike herself in Rachel's eyes, the brunette couldn't help but feel intrigued yet anxious at the same time. She wouldn't have been surprised if someone jumped from behind the teachers' desk she was leaning on and dumped a slushy on her head. "So… I just want to a-apologize for being a huge bitch to you while I was pregnant." Rachel had to pinch herself to refrain from adding to that statement. Obviously Quinn was having a very early onset of Alzheimer's if she forgot about the years of bullying Rachel before she became pregnant. That, or Quinn was more selfish than she thought. It was a tossup between the two, really. "There were times when you were the only one there for me, and I really, really appreciated it – and still do now – even though at the time I may have treated you less than you deserve to be treated."

"…Is that it?"

"No. I also wanted to say sorry… about Shelby. As someone who recently learned what it felt like to not have their mother's support, I can only imagine how you feel when you think about her. And now, now I feel personally responsible for adding another obstacle along with the bridge that's already separating the two of you."

"Quinn, stop. My relationship with Shelby has nothing to do–"

"Just!" Quinn put her hand up, "just let me finish what I have to say. I don't think I'll be able to bring it up again." Rachel's mouth formed a pout. "Like I said, I feel sorry, but I also feel sick and tired of being stuck in this position that neither of us really asked to be in or could have anticipated being in. It was just the way things worked out."

"And so now you're offering to be on my web show as some skewed act of personal atonement?"

"Well when you put it that way–"

"I think I've heard enough."

"Rachel–"

"Wait. Let me talk now."

"But I feel like you still don't understand. There were countless nights where I just stayed awake in bed, thinking about everything that happened and how I really want to make it up to you. Not… _entirely_ out of selfishness, but because I–"

"It's one thing to think about it, and it's another to actually show you care about someone. Did you think apologizing for being upset with me during a time when your hormones were completely out of whack and you'd lash out at whoever was within ten feet of you would make me fall to my knees at your feet, thanking you for finally acknowledging for once that you have a tendency to be bitchy?"

" _No_ , I just–" before Quinn could finish saying what was on her mind, the warning bell for the first class blared through the classroom speakers. Rachel just then registered where she was, and for a split second realized that there were no snarky educational posters on the wall or any signs that the classroom had been used since the beginning of the school year.

"I'm going to have to cut this short, seeing as my timely arrival to class is just as important to me as my grades. I accept your offer to be on the show, despite however shallow your reasoning behind it appears to be. Since Kurt and I have already completed the script for tonight, I can write you in for Friday's show. Do you think you can come over sometime this week after school?"

"To your house?"

"Yes, Quinn," Rachel lamented, "to my house."

"Uh, sure, I'll be there."

"I'll give you directions later."

"Okay."

Rachel brushed by Quinn quickly as she left the classroom, not sparing the blonde a 'goodbye' or a glance as she began to speed walk to the other side of the hall. As she focused in on the sound of her heels connecting with the tile floor, Rachel couldn't imagine what the rest of the day – or that week – had in store for her.

* * *

 **A/N: I really enjoyed reading you guys' reactions to the first two chapters! I'll try responding to each one of you ASAP. Please review for more. :)**

 **\- K**


End file.
